The Carol Rang Through Hogwarts
by GundamDelta6
Summary: Harry loves Draco. Ron loves Harry. Draco’s completely in the closet and the door is jammed. Sometimes, the greatest Christmas present is a wakeup call…and a little WD40 for the stuck closet doorfinally completed! Changed the rating.
1. Chapter 1

It's that time of the year again, and Santa's brought all of my lovely readers and reviewers another Christmas fic from me, GD6, based on Dickens' Christmas Carol. I know there are a lot of fics based on that story out there, butI am hoping mine is unique. Hope you enjoy. Here's a challenge: If you can guess the secret identies of: Scrooge, Cratchit, and Jacob Marley, you will get a random Christmas present. If you don't guess right, you get a present just for trying. How cool is that? 

The Carol Rang Through Hogwarts

Category: Harry Potter

Genre: I don't know…general?

Pairings: Established Hermione/Blaise, circumstantial Harry/Ron, eventual Harry/Draco

Rating: PG…for mild language and 'violence' (it's in quotes because…well, read the whole thing and it will explain itself)

Summary: Harry loves Draco. Ron loves Harry. Draco's completely in the closet and the door is jammed. Sometimes, the greatest Christmas present is a wake-up call…and a little WD-40 for the stuck closet door.

Part I

A rare occurrence in the Slytherin Common room is complete silence. Especially near the holidays. But, tonight, it was quiet as a graveyard, and there was one person in the House that liked that. Taking advantage of the stillness in the green-and-silver common room, he sat on the sofa near the blazing fire. He listened contentedly as the wood crackled in the fireplace and reveled in the radiating heat rolling over him as he lay on the couch. Occasionally, his silver eyes glanced over to watch the flames dance around with no specific form or pattern. His lips curved into a satisfied smile. It was warm, quiet, and peaceful. As he looked back to the book in his hands and found his place on the page, he heard a voice behind him.

"What are you reading?" There was a pause, then the young man on the couch turned his head to face the disturbance.

"What do you want, Zabini? I'm trying to read."

"I want to know what you're reading. Didn't you hear me?"

"Not really. I'm reading a book. About…" He himself was reluctant to admit it, for if the rest of Slytherin House found out; he would be the main topic of gossip the next morning, simply because Zabini couldn't keep his mouth shut. So he changed his mind about telling him. "None of your business."

"Then can you tell me where you got it?" Zabini persisted. "Come on, Draco. You can tell me. I swear I won't tell anyone."

"Yeah, right." Draco said, rolling his eyes. Blaise always said that, and he always spilt his guts to the first person that asked. "I don't believe you. Just go away and let me read." Blaise shrugged his shoulders and left. Draco's half-smile returned to his lips as he continued to read. How would the House react if they knew that the Slytherin Prince, who hated anything and everything to do with Muggles, had picked up a Muggle book and had been caught reading it? That was why Draco didn't tell Blaise where he had got it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was four o'clock in the morning. The fire in the hearth lit up the red walls and gold accents of the Gryffindor common room. Curled up his favorite armchair by the fire, schoolbooks open and parchment scattered about, a young man sat finishing his homework. Unable to sleep, he had come out to the common room to finish the homework he had been given for the Christmas holidays.

He yawned and stretched his arms as he finished McGonnagle's transfiguration essay (about the dangers of becoming animagi without Ministry supervision), then turned his attention to the half-finished Potions essay about the proper way to mix and use veritaserum. As he re-read what he had written hours before, he ran his hand through his black hair. His green eyes scanned the parchment as he thought of something to add.

Two and a half hours later, the fire had gone out and the first faint rays of the sun had begun to shimmer on the lake.

"Harry, how long have you been up?" asked a voice from the direction of the boy's dorms.

"Oh, hey Ron. Since about four." Harry answered, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Doing what?" Ron asked, jumping over the banister and landing rather badly on the floor. "Ow."

"Finishing my homework. It's a pretty good idea to get it done now so we have all Christmas break to do what we want, right?"

"Yeah. Owwwwwww!" Ron moaned getting up.

"What did you hurt?" asked a female voice.

"My leg…ow." Ron answered, finally managing to get up. "How are you, Hermione?"

"I'm fine. Harry, you look tired. How much sleep did you get?"

"Hardly any." Harry answered. The three friends talked for a while, then headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Draco had just gotten to the doors to the Great Hall with Blaise when the Gryffindor Trio came traipsing down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw his friend's eyes light up when Hermione Granger passed the two Slytherins to enter the hall.

"Hermione…wait up!" Zabini called after her. She stopped and turned. Smiling, she waited for her boyfriend to catch up. He escorted her to one of the two tables set up; more students than usual had stayed for Christmas, so a second table was needed. The Malfoy heir watched the two of them take each other's hands and sit down next to each other before closing his steely gray eyes and moving toward the other table, hoping to get away from the Christmas-y romance inspired by the mistletoe hanging all throughout the school.

As he took his seat and helped himself to some French toast, he heard the other two Gryffindors approaching.

"Come on, Harry! It's been ages since we've played chess!" Ron said as he sat down next to the black-haired boy who had taken a seat across from Draco.

"I don't feel like chess, okay, Ron. I just don't want to play," Harry said, sounding very tired. "Maybe some other time."

"What about 'having all Christmas break to do what we want?'" Ron asked.

"Yeah. What WE want…not what YOU want." Harry didn't even look at the redhead as he piled eggs and bacon onto his plate. He looked up, though, when Draco cleared his throat.

"Oh. Hey, Malfoy," Ron sneered at the blonde.

"Hey, yourself, Weasel."

"Merry Christmas, Draco," Harry tried hopefully; it was well known around the school that if you caught Draco in a good mood on Christmas, you'd be set for life.

"Humbug," Draco spat. "Christmas is stupid."

"No, it's not!" Harry argued.

"Don't try to convince him, Harry. Slytherins don't listen to Gryffindors, even though we're right."

"Blaise listens to Hermione, and he's a Slytherin," the Boy-who-Lived pointed out.

"Can't argue with that logic," Draco added sarcastically, giving the Chosen one a pointed glare. Ron saw this, and came close to hitting him.

"Come on, Harry, let's go," Ron said, tugging on Harry's sleeve as he stood up. "He's not worth our time, anyway."

"No, Ron. I'm staying here and eating." And Harry Potter proceeded to do just that.

"Why are you staying, Potter?" Draco asked after Weasley had left. "Don't you have something else to be doing?"

"Not really. Besides, I like Christmas, and the Great Hall is looking particularly Christmas-y this morning."

"Of course it is, you prat. It's Christmas Eve." Draco rolled his eyes. "And I don't particularly care."

"Fine. Be that way!" Harry said, sounding very hurt. "I guess I won't get you anything."

"Why would you get me anything, anyway?" Draco asked, incredulous.

"Well, one, my best friend is dating your best friend, and two, I thought it might lighten you up a bit with the 'house unity' concept."

"You are such an idiot, Potter. House Unity is something the stupid Sorting Hat made up to get us all to get along! It's stupid." That said, Draco stood and stormed off. Harry stared after him as he left, and had just gone back to his eggs when two familiar forms appeared before him.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" asked Hermione.

"I don't want to. What if he rejects me?"

"It's a double-edged sword, mate," Blaise said, sitting in Draco's vacated seat.

"How's that?" Harry asked, looking up and meeting Zabini's blue-green eyes.

"You ask Draco out, you reject Ron. You don't ask Draco out, and you spend the rest of your life thinking, 'what if?' See?"

"Yeah. The last thing I want to do, though, is choose between them. I love Draco, but I don't want to break Ron's heart…especially not on Christmas Eve."

"Uh-huh. That's pretty much exactly what you're gonna have to do." Blaise said. Hermione agreed by nodding her head.

"We've got to find a way to let Ron down gently, but still get Draco's attention," Hermione mused, sitting next to her boyfriend. "But how?" They sat in silence until the Hall started to empty, then they got up and walked together to the seventh floor.

They paused in the middle of the hallway and walked past a section of the wall three times, thinking about a way to solve Harry's problem.

'_We need a way to let me choose between Ron and Draco'_ Harry thought, while Hermione and Blaise stood back and waited. When the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, they walked in.

All over the place were books about breaking up and getting the one you like to notice you.

"Well, let's get started." On Zabini's suggestion, the three of them scattered to go through the books.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Draco walked through the halls aimlessly, wondering what was with everybody and 'Christmas'. He honestly didn't get it. His silver eyes looked up when it appeared he had come to a dead end. He scowled at the portrait covering the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Muttering the password (dark water) he made his way to the couch and went to pick up his book when he saw someone already sitting on the couch.

"Hello, Draco. How has your morning been?" Pansy asked.

"How do you think?" the blonde huffed, collapsing onto the sofa next to her.

"Not good. What happened?"

"Potter and Christmas. That's what happened."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Come on, relax. We can hate Christmas together!" Pansy said cheerily, even though Pansy Parkinson and Christmas got along like peanut butter and jelly.

"I hate Christmas people," Draco muttered, getting up and heading to his dormitory. After a while, a thought came to him. '_You know what you can do to get back at those Christmas people you hate so much? Since Dumbledore's the worst of the lot, sneak into his office tonight and vandalize it. That's gonna be a Christmas present he'll never forget!'_. Draco couldn't agree more. Smiling and laughing, he went back to the common room, where Pansy was still on the couch reading the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_. Hearing his laughter, she looked up from an article about blue robes.

"What's got you so happy?" she asked skeptically.

"The voices aren't real, but they have some great ideas!" he answered.

"This can't be good. Tell me everything," the pug-faced girl demanded sadistically. So he told her what he had thought of.

"I'll come with you…to make sure you don't screw up or get caught," Pansy said when he'd finished explaining.

"No. I'm going alone. I hate Christmas, and I'm the one who's gonna trash this God-forsaken holiday for everyone."

Well, you all know what to do, and remember the challenge. We'll see you at the next chapter. 


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 is here! Review responses:

**Ayakia Naru** **: Yeah, thanks a lot. You know the challenge doesn't apply to beta readers anyway...**

**Hmm.-I-Wonder** **: Here's part 2 for you. Thank you for submitting your guess.**

So, um, yeah. Thanks again to those who reviewed. Hope you enjoy this chapter, in which the ever interesting Ghost of Christmas Past makes its appearance to our dear Mr. Malfoy.

Part II

"_Twas the night before Christmas…"_ Draco thought as he snuck out of the Slytherin common room later that night. As he came upon the gargoyle that guarded the door to the Headmaster's office, he realized he did not know the password. Scowling, he approached it anyway, and proceeded to try everything he could think of to get it to open.

"Chocolate Frogs? Oh come on! You're on a card! What about pepper imps? Sugar quill? Pumpkin Pasty? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Drooble's Best Blowing Gum?" and so on and so forth. Finally getting tired of naming sweets off the top of his head, he got very angry and grumbled sarcastically, "Oh, for the love of Christmas!" and was surprised when the gargoyle jumped aside to let him in. Blinking rapidly, he walked up the spiral staircase and into the office.

Immediately, a broad grin spread across his face. This was going to be fun. But, before he could make one move toward one of the shiny silvery objects on the spindle-legged tables all over the place, there was a very familiar voice near him.

"The Headmaster's not in at the moment…but I can take a message." Draco looked around, startled. As his eyes traveled along the walls, they rested on a patched and frayed old hat on a shelf in the corner. "Unless it's something I can help you with?"

"No." Malfoy snapped, turning away from the Sorting Hat. "Just leave me alone."

"You're troubled, young Malfoy," the hat said. "What is it?"

"I thought you could see everything in my head?" Draco mocked, turning again to face the hat.

"Yes, but I have to be _on_ your head for it to work properly," it answered, leaning forward off the shelf…and tumbling straight onto Draco's head. After a moment, it continued. "Ah…I see now. I'll help you with your holiday humbugs, Draco."

"How can you help me?" he asked, ripping the hat off his head. "You're just a stupid old hat!"

"That may be, but I can still give you this warning." Draco rolled his eyes and stuffed the Sorting Hat back on its shelf. The Slytherin Prince proceeded to once again make his way toward the weird silver objects, deciding that they would be the first things to go, and ignoring the hat entirely.

He had just raised one arm to knock the nearest object to the ground when the hat spoke again. "I once knew a student who was just like you. She was completely oblivious to her surroundings, and hated the holidays."

"I'm not oblivious!" Draco spat. "I've memorized every detail of my shortcuts and my common room!"

"Ah, a literal thinker. I think I can help you."

"You've said that before, and you keep talking!"

"Go back to your common room, Mr. Malfoy, and wait," the Sorting Hat instructed.

"Wait? For what?" the young Malfoy asked.

"You'll be visited. You have to wait for your guests. It's bad form to come in after they've arrived."

"That was vague," Draco said, but left Dumbledore's office and returned to the Slytherin dorms.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The clock on the mantle showed the time to be ten minutes to midnight. Its face stared mockingly at Draco. The blonde Slytherin sat slumped on the velvet green couch and stared moodily into the fire. The guests the Sorting Hat had said would come had not shown so much as a thread of a cloak.

"Stupid Sorting Hat," he grumbled. "Doesn't know what it's saying…no one's coming." He chanced a look at the clock. Five to midnight. Yawning, he closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

What seemed like hours later, the soft tinkling chime of the clock rang like a gong in the still and silent common room. And still, Draco Malfoy slept. That is, until he heard a somewhat familiar voice sounded in his ear.

"Master Draco! Master Draco! Wake up! Dobby has things to show Master!" Draco waved his hand in dismissal at the voice.

"Go away. I want to sleep!"

"But Dobby cannot let Master Draco sleep! Dobby has things to show Master!" Then, Draco's silver eyes shot open. Only one word of what the voice was saying penetrated his sleepy brain.

"Dobby? As in Dobby the House-elf that we used to own, but stupid Potter set free?"

"Yes! I is Dobby the House-elf! And Harry Potter is not stupid! Now up! Dobby has things to show you!" the house elf said, pulling on Draco's hand to get him up.

"What could you possibly have to show me? What are you doing here, anyway?" Malfoy said, pulling his hand away from the tiny creature and crossing his arms.

"Dobby works in the kitchens! But that is not important! Come on!" Dobby grabbed Draco's robes and pulled him close to the fire.

"You have got to be kidding me," the young heir muttered as the house-elf snapped his fingers and the fire instantly turned green.

"Come on! Dobby is not kidding!" the creature said, stepping into the green flames and pulling his former master in with him. "Seven!"

Before Draco could ask why Dobby had said 'seven', they started spinning around. After a few moments, Dobby jumped out and Draco fell face first onto a hearth. A very familiar hearth.

Where is he? What is he doing there? It's your job to answer. Sumbit your guess to the **Christmas Carol Challenge** and get a random Christmas present...even if you're not right. P.S. Reviews make updates go faster...


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took me so long...internet's white-listed at school again xx. Anyway, I know it's past Christmas, but i really like this story, and i think the spirit of Christmas should follow us all year long!

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Part III.

"Okay…I know exactly where I am, and I have a vague semblance of a thought as to how I got here, but I want to know why I'm here."

"This is one of the things Dobby is bidden to show Master!" the house elf said, tugging on Draco's robes and gesturing for the Malfoy heir to follow. Draco did indeed know where he was. It was Malfoy Manor, and by the look of the place, at Christmas time.

"Look, Dobby, I don't know where this is heading…" Draco said, pulling at his robes to free them from the elf's grip.

"Master will see soon!" Almost as soon as the elf spoke, they had entered (through a closed door, which completely surprised Draco) the family room. Draco's jaw dropped as he took in the decorations and holiday glow of the place.

There was a giant evergreen tree in the center of the room. It was covered with tinsel and garland and glass ornaments in varying shapes and sizes and colors. There were piles of packages wrapped in gorgeous paper with vividly colored bows and ribbons arranged neatly under it. A fire crackled in the fireplace, throwing the shadows of a line of three red and white stockings across the floor. Each sock had trinkets bulging out of it. A small table near the fireplace held a plate with half-eaten cookies and crumbs next to an empty glass that Draco knew once held milk. He was snapped out of it by the sound of the door opening behind him.

"PRESENTS!" came the scream. Draco turned to see a very young blonde child turn and run back down the hall, leaving the door to the family room wide open, screaming, "MOMMY! DADDY! PRESENTS! THE FAT MUGGLE LEFT PRESENTS!"

Draco's face held a mixture of shock and horror. His face still held that strange expression when the blonde tyke came barreling back in, followed by his parents. His father and mother both had long blonde hair. His father's eyes were a steel gray, while his mother's were light blue. They smiled at each other, then at the young boy, who was sitting at the base of the tree and looking at the assortment of gifts as if wondering which one to open first.

"Now, now, Draco. Leave those for later. Let's see what's in the socks," the mother said, laughing as she walked to her son.

"Why? They're just socks with stuff in them," the young Draco said.

"Don't you want to see what the stuff is?"

"Not really," the boy said as he pulled one of the outermost presents toward him. "Not as much as I wanna see what's in these."

"Narcissa, let him open whatever he wants. He's a boy." The boy's father had taken a seat in one of the cushy chairs near the fire and was watching the delight in his son's eyes.

"Really, daddy?" the young Draco asked. The older, sixth-year Draco gagged.

"Yes. Go on, have your fun." The father said. Narcissa just shook her head.

"You're encouraging him, Lucius. I wish you wouldn't."

"Wow!" came the younger Malfoy's voice as he opened one of the other presents. "Lookie! The fat Muggle brought me a broom!"

"Um…okay? What purpose does this serve?" asked the older Draco.

"Master used to love Christmas. Even if it was a fat Muggle that brought Master his gifts."

"So…that's me…when I was seven?" the older Draco quirked one eyebrow.

"Yes. Don't you see, Master?" Dobby said.

"Not really…"

"Then I must take you somewhere else!" With that, the house-elf snapped his fingers, and the vision of Malfoy Manor melted away to reveal a familiar green and silver room. There were five beds arranged in a circle around the room with a trunk at the foot of each. Draco again saw himself, this time as eleven.

"This is my first year at Hogwarts! What does this have to do with anything?" the sixth-year asked, barely held back rage and irritation coloring his tone.

"Watch, young Master." Dobby pointed at the door.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

"Nothing, Zabini. Just leave me alone." The young Draco laid back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

"Something's gotta be wrong. Otherwise, you'd be in the common room with the rest of us, joking about stupid Gryffindors and lazy Hufflepuffs."

"I'm just…not in the mood."

"Oh…I remember this now…A particularly nasty fight with Potter and Weasel."

"They talked terrible things, they did," Dobby agreed.

"What?" the eleven-year old Blaise asked. "Not in the mood to trash the other Houses?" He walked over to Draco's bed and sat down on it. "You're seriously tripping, Dray."

"I'm not 'tripping'. And I wish you would stop using that Muggle slang."

"Well, sorry. If you would just tell me what's wrong…"

"I hate Christmas, that's what's wrong!" Draco screamed, sitting up.

"Yeah…The Christmas before I started at Hogwarts, my father decided to tell me that my life had been planned out for me. After I left school, I would become one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, whether I wanted to or not. From that moment, I hated my father, and I hated Christmas, because they both reminded me that I don't have a choice."

"Master is beginning to see!" Dobby said delightedly. "Master can go back, now!" With another snap, Draco was back in the Slytherin common room.

He sat bolt upright on the sofa and looked at the clock.

It read ten minutes to midnight.


	4. Chapter 4

Whew...I'm back. Here's part 4, finally...sorry it took a while to get out of my slump...hope you enjoy and I'll have the next chapter out as soon as i can. promise.

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Part IV

"What the…it was ten minutes to midnight before Dobby got here…" the young Malfoy murmered. He sat on the couch, contemplating the fire until the clock chimed midnight once more. Shooting his silver eyes all around the room, Draco saw no one. Perhaps no one else was coming…

Then, the creak of the hinges on the back of the portrait caught his ears. He turned sharply to face the entrance to the common room…and was mildly surprised when Albus Dumbledore walked in.

"Professor?" Draco asked, staring at the old man.

"Yes, my dear boy. Your former house elf informed me of your recent revelation. I am here to give you another one." The blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles twinkled.

"Let's get it over with, then." Draco said, standing up.

"Come along," the headmaster commanded gently, gesturing for the young Slytherin to follow him. Draco did so, but cautiously. They left the Slytherin common room and wandered through the halls.

"Professor, where are we going?" Draco ventured.

"Oh, nowhere really." Dumbledore led Draco a little further. A statue stood next to a blue tapestry at the end of the hallway.

"It's a dead end," Draco observed.

"It is." The headmaster took a couple steps forward, cleared his throat, and said clearly, "Corona Australis." The statue spiraled up at the words, revealing an archway. "In we go, Draco. Come along." The stunned blonde boy followed the eccentric old man into what Draco presumed was the Ravenclaw dormitories.

There were students all around the common room, books open, chess games being played, and intelligent conversation scattered elsewhere.

"Why are we here?"

"To see how others are doing on Christmas," Dumbledore answered. Just then, a string of discussion drifted over to them.

"That Malfoy guy?" one girl asked.

"Yeah. I heard he hates Christmas. Isn't that awful?" the second girl said.

"Typical of a Slytherin, anyway, though. To hate peace on earth and good will to man."

"I know what you mean."

They didn't hear anymore of that conversation because Draco had turned and stalked out of the blue common room, scowling. Dumbledore touched Draco's shoulder in a comforting sort of way, then led the young man to their next destination. As they walked, Draco sighed an awful lot.

"Something troubling you?" Albus asked.

"Yes. Those Ravenclaw girls…They're completely right. About me hating Christmas, anyway."

"Well, let's see what these students have to say…" Dumbledore answered as they approached a yellow and black tapestry.

"Oh, no! I am not going in there! That's Hufflepuff territory!"

"Right you are. But I am afraid you are also wrong. You are going in." The headmaster turned to the tapestry. "Shadow Puppet."

The corner of the tapestry peeled upward as though drawn by an invisible hand. The Headmaster ducked through and waited for Draco. With much hesitation and complaining, the young blonde followed.

"Stupid Hufflepuffs…why do I even have to be here?"

"You are here because there is a lesson you must learn," the Headmaster replied. Draco looked up, shocked; he didn't think that Albus had heard him.

"Did you see how that Malfoy git was acting this morning?" one Hufflepuff boy asked.

"Yeah. No surprise, really. He's always like that, isn't he?" responded a girl.

"Sure he is. Ah, well. Nothing we can do about it. I guess some people just…think too highly of themselves," the boy said, shrugging. "I'm retiring for the night. See ya."

A soft sob was heard as the boy walked up to his dormitory. Albus looked around for the source of the noise and found that it was Draco.

"What is it, Draco?" he asked.

"They----they're right….I'm arrogant, and selfish, and vain….and I…." Draco broke off as more tears fell down his face.

"All right. We've seen enough for tonight." Dumbledore nodded once and the Hufflepuff common room melted away to reveal the Slytherin dorms. Draco collapsed on the couch in front of the fire and cried himself to sleep.

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please review 


	5. Chapter 5

YAY! An update! See? Told y'all I hadn't forgotten!

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Part V

Draco stared moodily into the fire. He'd been sitting here for a full ten minutes after Dumbledore had returned him and assured the Malfoy heir that there was one visitor left, who would be arriving shortly. Draco heaved a sigh and looked at the Muggle book that someone (probably Pansy; she absolutely loved Muggle books) had left sitting on the table between the couch and the fireplace. Picking it up, he glanced at the title: _A Christmas Carol_. Vaguely, he wondered why she would be reading something about a Christmas song, but flipped through the pages nonetheless, having nothing better to do.

Instantly, he was entranced by the storyline, how it uncannily mirrored what had happened to him this Christmas night.

As he read Pansy's book, he found that the main character, Scrooge, hated the holidays as much as he himself did, He was startled at how his dead business partner, Marley, had told him of the coming visitations, just as the Sorting Hat in Dumbledore's office had. The first spirit had shown the past, how the Scrooge character had had such a happy, carefree childhood; Dobby had shown Draco something similar. As Dumbledore had taken him around the school to see what others were doing, the second spirit did the same. So caught up was Draco that he failed to notice an ethereal presence enter the common room as he read the part about how Christmas Future had appeared as a cloaked figure.

"What are you reading, dear boy?" The voice shocked Draco into dropping the book.

"N-N-Nothing!" he stuttered, trying to hide it from the weird teacher who had appeared behind him. "Who are you? I know you're a teacher, but I haven't seen you around the school."

"I am Professor Trelawney. I teach Divination up in the tower," Trelawney said.

"I assume that, if this all is a play-out of this book, you are the "Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come"?"

"That is correct." Trelawney adjusted her shawls as she spoke. "Do you mind if I have a seat?"

"Umm…go ahead?" Draco shrugged as the Divination teacher sat down on the couch and produced a gleaming crystal ball. She set it on the table and gestured Draco closer to her. Raising an eyebrow, he knelt beside the table and stared intently at the glass orb. Trelawney waved her hand, and they were inside the ball.

The scene was sort of comforting: a cozy room, a fireplace, the furniture arranged neatly. Draco nodded appreciatively at the artwork that adorned the walls; the painting depicting a wolf, dog, and stag above the fireplace lent itself to the identity of the person who lived here. The only thing Draco saw wrong with the room was that the red-and-gold wallpaper design did not fit with the silver and black furniture. There was a clock on the wall above the couch; it was a normal, Muggle clock, not the troublesome wizarding kind. Draco liked that for some reason. Another thing that the Malfoy heir was surprised that he enjoyed was the flat-panel television set that hung on the wall directly opposite the couch, the obviously Muggle record player/radio in the corner. Looking around, he saw a wide doorway with a set of silver curtains serving as the door. Glancing to Trelawny for permission to explore, he set off toward the curtains. Passing through them, he found himself in a study. There was a rather large desk with a computer sitting on it (at least, Draco was sure that's what the contraption was called), a tall bookcase filled with books and collectibles, and a large black piano that took up most of the room. There was another door on the far side, behind the piano. As Draco started towards it in his quest to explore the place, someone came out of the room beyond.

Shocked at the sight of a much older-looking Harry Potter walking towards the piano and sitting down to play, Draco's jaw dropped. He looked absolutely…gorgeous. There was no other word for it. The music coming from the large black instrument spoke of loss and longing, feelings obviously held by Potter. Without knowing why, Draco longed to help the man, to hold and comfort him.

"Professor? Why is he so sad?"

"Come, child," Trelawney said softly, grabbing Draco's arm and leading him to the piano. Draco looked at the title of the musical piece this green-eyed man was playing: "Broken Dreams", and back at the musician.

"I didn't know he could write music…or play…" Draco whispered.

"Did you ever take the time to find out? In your six years of being classmates, did you ever try to find out who Harry actually is?"

"No…I didn't." Stopping, a sudden question coming to mind, he looked up at the teacher. "This is quite a lovely house. Too lovely to live alone in. Does anyone live here with him?"

"Yes…" Trelawney replied slowly, as the future Harry took up a quill that lay alongside the sheet music and added the last few notes he had played, then tried a few more keys, adding them as well. There was a voice from the sitting room that both startled and frightened Draco.

"Harry! Why are you always playing with that thing? I don't know why you even bought it in the first place!" A tall redhead walked into the study through the curtains. "It was a waste of money, if you ask me."

"It was not a waste of money, Ron. It was a necessary investment," future-Harry replied, tapping another key and cocking his head to contemplate the sound. "Just because you think the money could have been spent on better things…"

"Like something we could both use?" future-Ron cut him off.

"It's not my fault you have no musical talent. I'm starting to wonder why I married you in the first place. Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it? I have a natural talent for…"

"Just about everything!" future-Ron interrupted. "Flying, piano, getting attention. The list could go on!"

"They're…married?" Draco asked, aghast. "That's just too weird."

"Tell me, Draco. What did you feel when Harry started playing?" Trelawney asked.

"Sad. I wanted to comfort him and take away his pain…and it seems right now as if Weasley's not doing too good a job."

"Why is it, do you think, that Harry puts all of his sadness into his music?" Trelawney asked, as if it was obvious. "Why do you think he is so sad?"

"Well, everyone knows about his parents, and his godfather…" Draco started, but stopped when Trelawney shook her head. She took out her wand, waved it once, and the beautiful house, the piano, and the arguing couple vanished. They were in the common room again.

"He is sad…because you turned him away." Trelawney stared right at Draco.

"How did I do that?"

"Remember your first year? You insulted the only friends he had made, and then offered to take their place, instead of trying to work out a compromise where you, Ron, and Hermione could all be his friends."

"I…You're right. How could I have been so selfish?" Draco hung his head.

"And so it went. Every time you got the chance, you insulted Ron for being poor, and Hermione for being Muggle-born. By doing that, you pushed Harry farther away."

"I just wanted to be his friend…That's all I ever wanted." The blonde boy dropped to his knees.

"Seek him out tomorrow. He will be waiting by the suit of armor in the Charms corridor." Trelawney stood and left the sobbing boy.

* * *

Sorry it took me forever...it will probably be a while before I update again...anyways, you know the drill. 


	6. Chapter 6

Well, here it is...finally. I started this damn thing the middle of December, and now here at the end of May, I have finally gotten the last chapter! Yes, the last chapter. It's over, finished, done with, finito, end, owari. Hope you all like it.

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Part VI

"Draco?" The blonde's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Struggling to hide his tear-stained face, he turned to the voice. "Draco, are you alright? What happened?"

"It's nothing, Pansy, really…" Draco said, dropping his head into his hands again.

"It's not 'nothing' or you wouldn't be crying." Pansy sat down next to him. She stared into the fire, waiting for him to speak, then something caught her eye. "Did you move my book?"

"Actually, I was reading it. I hope you don't mind…"

"It's all right. Now, what happened? Did you trash Dumbledore's office?" She sat back and faced the Malfoy heir.

"No." Pansy was shocked. She blinked a few times, wondering if she heard right.

"What? You didn't? Why not?"

"I was stopped," Draco started.

"By a teacher?" Pansy breathed.

"No…by the Sorting Hat. Stupid thing."

"The…the Sorting Hat stopped you from trashing the headmaster's office? Wow. So, what happened?"

"The Hat told me to come back here, to the Common Room, and wait for visitors. I fell asleep at ten to midnight, because no one showed up. Then, a voice woke me up. It was my old house elf, Dobby. He took me back through time in the fireplace to when I was seven, and then to my first year here." Draco explained.

"How in Merlin's name is that possible?" Pansy whispered. Draco shrugged and continued with his story. About half and hour later, Pansy was still sitting there, dumbstruck.

"Wow…so…Trelawney, the batty old Divination teacher, showed you a future where Potter and Weasel were married and that freaked you out?"

"Yeah, it did. She said that Potter would be sad in that future because I never made a move on him or something…Pansy?"

"Yes?"

"Will you help me…get Harry?" Draco asked, eyes hopeful. Pansy smirked.

"I thought you'd never ask! I have the perfect plan!"

"What?" the Slytherin Prince asked, suddenly afraid.

"It's Christmas Day, right?" At Draco's nod, she continued. "It just so happens to be a very old tradition to kiss the one you love under a sprig of mistletoe!"

"What are you getting at? There's no logical way I'll be able to trick Harry into standing under the mistletoe!"

"You don't have to trick him, sweety. Just leave everything to me!" With that, she was gone, back up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

* * *

Ron Weasely sighed deeply as he soared through the crisp Christmas morning air. He had gotten up early and left his presents at the foot of his bed in favor of flying around the Quidditch Pitch. He couldn't understand it. How could Harry have acted like that toward him yesterday? Why hadn't he come back to the common room last night? For that matter, why hadn't Hermione come back? Ron could think of a million different reasons, but he didn't like to.

* * *

"There has to be something useful in here!" Hermione sighed. Frustrated, the three of them had gone through just about every book the Room of Requirement came up with, none of which seemed to help. She closed the book with a loud 'thump' and glanced apologetically at the Boy-Who-Lived. "Sorry, Harry. There just doesn't seem to be anything."

"She's right, mate," Blaise said, gently closing his own book. "But, then again, she's always right."

"Not always," Hermione corrected. "Maybe we should go down to the Great Hall and get something to eat. We're not going to find anything." Harry nodded reluctantly and the three of them left the Room. At the staircase, they met someone.

"Guys! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

"Pansy? What's up?" Blaise asked. "Why were you looking for us?"

"It's Draco! He needs your help!"

"All of us?" Harry asked.

"Yes! Now come on!" Pansy led them all down to the Quidditch Pitch. Draco turned to meet them as they got to the entrance.

"What is it, Draco? What do you need our help with?" Harry asked, concern evident in his green eyes.

"Um…Nothing, actually. I need to tell you something, Harry." Just as Harry nodded for him to go on, there was a movement behind Draco as Ron landed.

"What's going on, guys?" he asked, looking between them.

"Ah…Hi, Ron," Harry faltered. This was going to be difficult.

"Enough with the chit-chat! We got work to do!" Pansy shouted.

"Work?" Ron asked faintly. "But it's Christmas!"

"Not that kind of work, Weasely!" Pansy shrieked. "Now, Hermione, Blaise, stand back." They did so, and Pansy continued. "I have here a piece of the oldest Christmas tradition known to mankind. You two," she pointed to Draco and Ron, "are the contestants on my holiday game show!"

"What are the rules, Parkinson?" Ron asked, growing impatient with Pansy and her annoying voice.

"Ohh…feisty! I kinda like that." Ron rolled his eyes and Pansy continued. "The rules are as follows: You will each have an equal chance to claim the prize. There will be no foul play, and the contest is not rigged in any way, shape, or form. This is merely a contest of your skill, speed, and…dare I say it…attractiveness." Here, she smiled shyly at Harry. "Sorry to have to do it this way, love. But, it has to be done." Turning her attention back to the boys, she twirled the sprig of mistletoe she held behind her back. "Go for it, boys!" Suddenly, Harry was standing under the mistletoe in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch on Christmas morning with Ron and Draco fighting over him. Before the black-haired Gryffindor knew what had hit him, there was one warm arm around his waist and another caressing his neck, and a pair of lips pressed tightly against his.

When the kiss was broken, green eyes blinked wildly, their owner wondering whether or not he was really seeing the steely gray eyes in front of him. He stopped blinking and sighed. But then, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Ron was sitting on the ground staring heartbrokenly at the couple.

"Ron…I'm sorry…I just…I don't love you like that…" Harry stammered, then closed his eyes as Draco laid Harry's head on his shoulder, stroking the black hair.

In a tall window overlooking the Quidditch Pitch, four figures congratulated themselves and each other.

The End.

* * *

YAY!!!!!! Finally! Now I can concentrate on my other fics...not that this one wasn't fun to write. It was actually quite enjoyable writing this in my Anatomy class instead of taking notes...but that's probably why I have a B...

I hope you all enjoyed this fic. I surely did. But, I must say farewell to Mr. Potter for now and focus on my ToS and SW stories.

See you all at one of my other fics! ---GundamDelta6


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